


conquest of spaces

by soundsaboutright



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 22:30:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6585163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundsaboutright/pseuds/soundsaboutright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set right after they woke up Jocelyn in episode 13.</p><p>Little Malec scene I just wanted to let play out in my head.</p><p>No plot really just the simple enjoyment of comfort and tentative touches, letting the scene go on in my mind. Magnus’ pov.</p>
            </blockquote>





	conquest of spaces

 

Tears like these, too long held in -Magnus watches Clary cling to her mother’s arms- they come with soul deep sobs that he is sure will not ebb away for some time to come now.

Luke knows it, too, tired defeat in his voice: “I know we all have a lot of questions, Alec, I know I do, but maybe we should call it a day. Regroup tomorrow morning.”

Alec’s stare is blank for some moments, only the slight worrying of his lip betraying how affected he is by yet another impossible decision.

Clary’s quiet sobs still echo in the silence of the room and Magnus just knows they resonate within in every part of Alec as well.

High cheeks too hollow, the drawn back posture of his shoulders a little too tense, even for his usual wide set stance claiming leadership and professional detachment.

Alec’s hurting over Jace maybe just as much as Clary is, his parabatai’s absence a quiet dragging ache inside, the need to fix this -fix anything- immediate and urgent. And yet. And yet they’ve been on their feet for far too long now.

Magnus steps forward. “Luke’s right.” The gentleness in his tone addresses Alec before anyone else. “Maybe one night’s rest would do us all some good.”

Alec takes in a breath and his eyes wander over the people in the room. Lingering on Jocelyn and Clary still all wrapped up in each other and finally Izzy. His shoulders slump slightly, even if Magnus can’t hear it in his voice.

“Fine. Strategy meeting first thing in the morning tomorrow. I expect everyone at eight am sharp.” Izzy, Luke and Magnus nod, and the group disassembles, walking away in silence. Magnus finds himself fall in stride with Alec, heading for his family’s quarters.

He notices himself tread carefully, in the most literal sense, not sure where their earlier conversation in the hallway has left them. Magnus hates how all this feels so fragile once again, how he can be so terrified of losing Alexander already before he even really is his to lose.

Alec doesn’t speak as he opens the door to his room. Magnus wonders if it’s just all him, this fearing what Alec’s next impulse and decision will be, regarding Magnus, this, them. And shouldn’t he be too old for this teen angst rollercoaster? Well, apparently he isn’t.

Yet, Alec is still soft around him, is he not? His features, his moves… He’s honest and not hiding and his guards are not all back up.

Magnus enters Alec’s room behind him. There is that, Magnus tries to calm himself, even if nothing else would indicate what their next step is and what else they are to each other but some kind of important, there’s that. A sense of friendly familiarity. And more. He will be here for everything Alec will throw his way.

Alec turns to Magnus, face looking as if he’d just remember the other man is there.

“You don’t have to stay.”

It knocks the breath out of Magnus.

Only the blink of an eye later, though, Alec seems to realize the gruffness of his voice and rubs a hand over his face with an apologetic sigh. “I… or you could stay. I am just tired.” He rolls his eyes at no one in particular. Never too tired for that, Magnus thinks.

Alec huffs: “Even though I fear sleep is an impossible feat right now with everything that needs to be thought about…”

Magnus chances a tentative smile:

“Well, I am sure sitting down would be a start.”

It’s then that Alec really looks at Magnus again for the first time since the hallway, and the corner of Alec’s mouth ticks up with a half-smile of his own. And yes, his eyes are soft. Shy and warm and so soft.

“Yeah.”

Alec releases the word with a deep breath, sinking down onto the sofa, elbows propped up on his knees. His hands come up to cover his face.

The space he’s left on the couch beside him most certainly indicates that he wouldn’t mind Magnus sitting as well, but with Alec space is something Magnus feels and is aware of acutely;

He would rather assess his every move a thousand times before treading one foot where he isn’t sure would be too far.

Alec looks up to Magnus still standing, a question between amusement and worry evident in his frown, and maybe that is as much invitation as he will get after all, so Magnus sits, hands folded on his lap.

Alec’s frame relaxes a bit, but his looks keep flicking over to Magnus like he is trying to figure something out.

So Magnus offers:

“I never quite seem to know when my touch is welcome… with you.” He watches Alec’s eyes widen slightly, then look down, as Alec’s processing what seems to surprise him. Alec nods slowly if more to himself. Looking at his hands in front of him again, rubbing his wrist, collecting resolve it might seem.

“It would be.” His voice comes out hoarse and he coughs trying to give it more substance and confidence.

“I mean… I… wouldn’t mind… now… you touching me.”

He ends on a soft aborted hum, as Magnus puts a reassuring hand on top of Alec’s. Stopping their restless nervous wringing.

A thankful sideways glance meets Magnus, and Magnus waits, when for some breaths Alec just goes back to staring at their joined hands, as if letting Magnus’ warmth seep in.

One of Alec’s long slender fingers moves and caresses along Magnus skin lightly, and Magnus’ heart swells with it.

It stumbles and misses a beat, then, when Alec takes and turns Magnus’ hand in his, and, with a sudden sureness yet so slowly brings it to his face, pressing his lips against Magnus’ palm in a gentle, unagitated kiss. Just keeping it there, having it cradle his face and breathing against it.

Magnus is overcome by a wave of affection so urgent yet content in itself, he hopes Alec can feel it sparking from his skin, buzzing from his aura.

It never does seem to amaze Magnus in Alec, that swift turn to confidence, consequence of a decision, meditated or impulsive alike, by a man who would roll his eyes at you for calling him impulsive, a man scared and yet so brave.

They sink deeper into the touch and the cushions of the couch.

When Alec looks up, he mirrors the smile that is undoubtedly in Magnus’ eyes. But there is exhaustion in his features as well, and Magnus lets his touch wander down to Alec’s neck, cupping tight tendons there with a gentle caress.

Alec closes his eyes, calmed by the gesture and the soft pressure, and Magnus moves to where neck meets shoulders, kneading slightly only by the subtle roll of his palm, just letting warmth spread.

There’s the smallest appreciative sigh on Alec’s part when Magnus’ intent must become clear to him. “My, Alexander, you’re really tense…”

That gets him a raised brow and half-hearted eyeroll, but Alec is already moving under Magnus’ lead: “Here, let me help a bit. Just turn a bit, lean on…”

Alec silently turns on the couch shooed by Magnus gestures, and Magnus smiles at the lack of resistance against his contactless manhandling on the shadowhunter’s part, so obviously a testament to the extent of his tiredness.

Alec ends up leaning sideways on the backrest, chin sinking down on it, adorably curled in on himself, if a little awkwardly due to his height. Magnus positions himself behind him, and lays both hands on Alec’s shoulders, feeling the vibrations of an almost soundless hum Alec makes.

And like this, it’s all suddenly so real that Magnus swallows. The expanse of broad shoulders in front of him, the smell of cotton and skin, the heat emanating from the body beneath his palms, the sound and rhythm of Alec breathing that is so unique. Every fiber of Magnus’s being is drawn to this man in front of him.

So he pours everything into his touch and starts moving his hands, massaging muscles slowly through Alec’s shirt. It’s really just a rolling and a pressing of palm and fingers in waves of warmth, with a small tingle of magic that flows naturally through Magnus’s body. Alec melts into the touch, breathing deeper.

Magnus is so absorbed in the undulating moves of his hands timed with both their slow and even breaths that he starts when suddenly Alec’s hand is on top of his.

He stops immediately, a flash of a million irrational worries in his mind, and eyes wide on Alec as much as he can see of his face from there.

But what Alec does is pull Magnus’ hand to his chest and around him, enveloping himself in Magnus’ embrace. For a heartbeat, when his chest meets Alec’s back, Magnus freezes.

He’s caught breathless. He didn’t dare to hope. For something like this. Magnus exhales a small shiver.

And then he gives himself to it. To the embrace. To holding Alexander, being a frame of support and warmth without being a cage, giving room, with no space between them. He hides his smile against the neckline of Alec’s shirt breathing calm into him.

And he knows Alec’s eyes are open, blinking at the wall, heart missing the occasional beat. Maybe testing the feeling, nervous over the newness, maybe hesitant to close his eyes, losing himself completely all at once. A mind not yet willing to give in to sleep or that level of abandon, when Alec’s body so clearly already is about to give itself over to warmth and comfort.

It’s as innocent and soothing yet nerve wracking as can be. Just the awareness of where their bodies touch is enough to drown out all other thoughts of what’s to come, the turmoil and the worry, and finally fatique takes over. Muscles jump and loosen on the verge of sleep, so Magnus tries to make his voice the least invasive sound he can:

“You should really sleep, Alexander, let me take you to bed.”

Alec huffs a breath, and stirs only reluctantly. “Come on, I’ll hold you till you fall asleep.”

Magnus gets insecure about the offer just as it has left his lips, not sure if that is something that is wanted, and again Magnus is hit by a fleeting feeling of loss, as Alec disentangles them and gets up.

But then there’s a small nod and Alec shuffles over to the bed feet dragging slightly on the carpet. He looks back, checking, heavy lidded, like he’s not sure of the protocol here or how to proceed, so Magnus smiles, relieved and full of fondness: “Just get under the covers.” And with a snap of his wrist Alec’s boots are no longer on his feet, but in the corner of the room.

Alec’s reaction must be one between an eyeroll and a smile, but is lost as he sinks onto bed, face burying into the pillows. Magnus looks at the private picture Alec makes like this and can’t help himself:

“If you’d rather have me leave, though…”

Alec’s form halts in his movement of getting comfortable. There’s some seconds of silence, then a low mumble against the sheets: “No. No it’s okay, it’s late. We might need your input at the meeting later, it’d be only practical that you’d stay.”

Magnus only hears half of it and guesses the rest, but Alec has moved to the far side of the bed, clearly leaving space behind him, and Magnus accepts this as his answer instead.

Another snap of fingers and he is changed into a soft shirt and pants from his own wardrobe at home.

It’s monumental and somehow it’s not. He lays down beside Alec, on top of the covers, his hand coming to rest on Alec’s shoulder, waiting for him to place it like he did before, where he wants it.

Alec’s fingers are warm on his when he finds them, intertwining them, and pulls them to his chest. A pause, then with a quiet jolt of determination, Alec half turns at the waist, and those warm fingers are on Magnus nape when he is pulled in for a gentle kiss.

Magnus releases a slow breath through his nose at the way Alec kisses him. It’s more like he’s giving him his mouth -that magnificent mouth- slow, unrushed and trusting, lips open and pliant. It reminds Magnus of the way Alec’s features have been when it’s just the two of them, since that first kiss they shared. Softer somehow, not as sharply drawn.

When Alec seems content with the kiss for now, he ends it on a hum and a small open smile so close still to Magnus’ pleasantly tingling face.

When Alec looks down, though, his expression changes to a squint and a drawn eyebrow, complete with frown. Magnus lips fall open in question but before he can form words, Alec tucks the sheet, that Magnus has laid down on top of, out from under Magnus’ side, with surprising strength and agility for a man that tired. Only to cover them both with it again.

Magnus feels warmth wrap around him as Alec gives him one last of those looks so very much Alec, equal parts shy fondness and amused annoyance and then turns back on his side, pulling Magnus arm around him once more.

Despite this bravado, and Alec’s outer composure, Magnus can feel Alec’s heart thump fast and heavy for a long while against him.

It only adds to it, to the feeling and all the emotions of it. Of holding Alexander.

Brave and innocent and strong beneath his touch.

Magnus feels a notion of peace come over him, as Alec’s breaths even out eventually, even if sleep still seems just out of their grasp.

And he lets everything wash over him.

He can’t and won’t do otherwise.

 

* * *

 

_I’m ready to start the conquest of spaces_

_Expanding between you and me_

Woodkid, Conquest of Spaces

 

_I am a little rusty, pleaaaase let me know what you think <3_


End file.
